Final Five Days in JUBA: Part 1

Last Monday morning I was sitting in the Departures area of Nairobi International Airport, with our three children. Just as we finished eating our early lunch at the cafe, an airport official approached our table.
"Excuse me, madam," he began, "the plane for Zanzibar is boarding now. That is your plane, isn't it?"
I smiled and explained that, no, we were actually travelling to Juba. He looked a little taken aback and departed to round up other Zanzibar passengers.
This was a reminder to me about the unusual nature of our trip. South Sudan ranks as one of the most dangerous countries, particularly after the July fighting, so it must have seemed strange to the official to to see a foreign mother with 3 young children bound for Juba.

A short while later, we boarded our plane. I was pleased to find our seats in one of the front rows. Esther and Ben sat across the aisle from Joel and I. Just as we finished buckling our seat-belts, a member of the cabin crew bent down towards me looking concerned.
"I'm sorry," she addressed me, "I just thought I'd let you know that the plane going to the coast (Malindi) is actually departing from the other side of the runway. Are you sure you boarded the correct flight?"
"Oh yes," I replied, "we are on our way to Juba!"
"Ah, OK, well, I just thought I'd check" she answered, casting a swift glance over the children. Then she smiled politely before heading down the aisle to check that seat-belts were buckled correctly.

The comments from these two separate staff members was a little disconcerting! However, it was comforting to me to know that we would be well looked after by MAF staff once we landed in Juba- and that this was only a short trip back into a place that is still politically volatile and tense.

Our flight was happily uneventful.
As we approached Juba, our children strained to get their first glimpses of the River Nile and of the city that had been home to them since August 2014.

On arrival. we were first out of the plane. I pulled the children with me to approach the immigration queue as quickly as possible. I was keen to avoid getting caught up in the long, hot, sweaty lines that form in front of the Immigration desks once flights unload their passengers at Juba airport. Crossing the tarmac, the familiar heat of South Sudan enveloped us. I had forgotten how hot Juba can feel.

My heart was pounding as we shuffled forward in the already-forming queue. I presented the passports and visas for myself and the children, praying that the official dealing with our paperwork would not cause any trouble or delays. I never feel completely confident that everything will run as clockwork. But this time it did- and I was very thankful! We came through that queue so fast! What a relief! From experience over the past two years, the Immigration queue at Juba airport can be a real test of endurance- so it was brilliant that it ran so smoothly!

We were met by two smiling MAF staff members. I was so pleased to see them! Partly because it was a real relief to see staff for myself and see that that they are well after the fearful fighting in July- and partly because it was wonderful to feel looked after arriving in Juba on my own with the children. (Andrew was on flying duty in South Sudan all of last week, so he was flying in separately as pilot on the fully-booked MAF plane).

Alex drove us back to the compound through streets that we had last driven though under great pressure during the July evacuation. His cheerful banter and the milling around of ordinary people, going about their ordinary business on the streets of Juba helped to put to rest some of those stressful memories of that strangely quiet, tense day when we had evacuated.

In the back of the pick-up van, Esther, Ben and Joel were so excited about returning home. They chatted together about seeing our house as we had left it, about re-discovering toys they have not seen for four months and mostly about playing with their four younger friends who still live on the Juba compound:

Arriving back at the compound in the late afternoon, it was wonderful to greet staff and friends we have not seen for months. We all took some time to circulate and shake hands and visit staff in their offices. I received so much comfort from shaking hands and talking with people I have been concerned about since the fighting. It was so good to see for myself that they are doing OK.

We then pushed open the gate from the office car-park to return to our Juba home. A kind friend had decorated the exterior of our house with flags to welcome us back!

It was a lovely gesture. It helped to provide a distraction and talking point for me with the children, because I found that I was suddenly overcome at seeing our home again after an absence of four months.
Emotions threatened to overwhelm me. This building was our family home for two years: we built many happy memories with the children here. It was good to feel a familiarity that has been missing in the last few months, since we have been living out of suitcases in so many other buildings for the last 4 months... and yet it was also sad, as we would now be packing up and leaving this home where we had worked hard to create our family life in South Sudan. Mixed into those thoughts were the uneasy feelings from our rushed July exit and remembered stress of incessant generator noise invading the home.

I pulled myself together, grabbed the house keys and entered into our home. It was dusty, stuffy from disuse and a leaking toilet smelt bad! But otherwise, it was just as we left it on July 9th. The children rushed past me, already with 3 of their little friends in tow! There were squeals of delight as they re-discovered their toys and home!
They would able to enjoy their home for the next full day, before packing up started in earnest. On that first evening, Andrew came back from his flight around 6pm, then we had a meal with friends and later I joined the ladies of the compound for a "ladies night" at one of the homes. The following day was allocated for packing up the schoolroom, thus leaving the children free to roam the house and compound while I worked (and Andrew, of course, was out flying each day- he had a busy week and was gone during each daytime).

Day 2

I had been dreading this moment. This was the day when I would dismantle two years of hard toil. Maybe not blood, but certainly much sweat and many tears had gone into home-schooling in Juba!

Now it was time to tear down everything I had worked so hard to build up. My little mini-kingdom: my place of work: the room where I had seen our children make exciting progress and shared their frustrations and triumphs!
All of it had to be torn down, packed away, given away or thrown out- and I had only a few hours to make those decisions about what to pack for Uganda, throw out or give away.

 I found myself with just 6 hours to get from a schoolroom set up like this:

...to this:

Amazingly, I did it, by God's grace! Not without tears though :-(

My heart ached as I tore down lovingly created artwork, stories written with great effort, maths work that had involved careful thought and planning. Even when I worked as a classroom teacher in London I used to feel nostalgic at the end of the school year, dismantling children's work when they moved to another class and I prepared a blank canvas for new pupils coming up. However, the nostalgia is infinitely deeper when it is your own children's work you are pulling down and you know first hand how much effort each piece of work cost them.

Before I started, I asked Esther, Ben and Joel to come and see the schoolroom as I wanted them to remember it. A place of learning together, of growing as individuals and as a family. Let's be realistic before I get too nostalgic...Yes, we had some stressful and argumentative times as my kids rebelled against certain lessons (!!) and I got frustrated at lessons gone wrong or sleepy pupils not trying very hard (!!) BUT we also had a lot of laughter and a lot of moments where I felt so very proud of Esther and Ben -and Joel too on occasions when he joined us!.

Ben and Esther's final look at the schoolroom as it was:

This space was more than a container. It was a room full of family memories. Here, we completed art projects together, Science experiments, History tasks. We were all learning together (especially me, as I learnt how to do home-school!!).
In this schoolroom my children worked hard as I pushed them to improve reading, writing and maths skills. Their achievements felt like my own, partly because they are my own children: any mother feels proud when she sees her children take a step forward in their learning, but also because I had been so closely involved in the whole process.
I knew I had poured so much effort into this place, sometimes preparing lessons late into the evening and often on Saturday mornings. There was something rather sad about having to dismantle it so quickly. Joel clearly felt my mood, as he burst into tears, sat down and refused too move. "I'm too sad" he said - and refused to be in a photo. :-(

Of course, I am excited about our move to Uganda and am looking forward to more freedom and time to myself once we stop homeschooling. Yet I still felt a wrench tearing down what we had worked so hard to achieve. It was so quick, so final! Now there was no way I could ever share this part of our lives with grandparents or extended family. They would never visit the schoolroom we had set up, as we had hoped they may do one day.

So it was that Day Two was a strange day of time-pressured packing-up, of nostalgia for what we had achieved and yet also a time of excitement as I look forward to a chapter, which will hopefully be less intensely demanding of my time.

Almost packed....


All done:


On Tuesday evening, we gathered with our international MAF team to go out for an early dinner at the very hotel where we had sheltered from gunshots and listened to heavy fighting on July 8th.
Because of a safety curfew and of wanting to be back before it got too dark after 7pm (night-time crime is still a real threat in the city) we left the compound at 5pm.

The atmosphere on the streets in Juba is still strained. The city is quieter than it used to be. It is rather unsettling. But the hotels are open again and it was really good to go back to Quality Hotel and have a "normal" evening out. It helped put to the back of our minds the stress from listening to the gunshots that fateful Friday evening in July.
I had asked some friends from church and our pastor from our Juba church to come along too- it was brilliant to see them there and also Joel's teacher from his preschool last year. :-)

With our much respected pastor, Bernard Suwa:

I was delighted when I was presented with a beautiful gift of silver tea-spoons from Holland by our Dutch friends:

Inflation has become even more of a problem in recent times, with $1 being equivalent to about 75 South Sudanese pounds. This meant our food bill for about 25 people came to over 8,000 South Sudanese pounds!! Trying to count out that amount of cash in notes with denominations such as 5 or 10 or 20 SS pounds took a VERY long time!!

Wads of cash,,, but sadly not worth very much!

We finally trooped home after a lovely evening out. We were back home by 7:30, but it felt much later- I was exhausted from all that packing...and still had more to come. Tomorrow I would start on the house. Andrew and I attempted some more packing up of kitchen goods and sorting of books, toys and clothes we would give away or sell- and then hit the pillows. I was so tired that I even manged a night without ear-plugs (yes, the generator is still there and still loud: something I definitely will NOT miss!!).

Days 3 and 4
Wednesday and Thursday passed in a hazy blur of packing... what can I say? I discovered a new sport: Extreme Packing. I have never had to pack up an entire house so fast!! Lifting, bending, running up and down stairs, twisting, kneeling, reaching up... a great workout that lasted all of last week! I was stiff in all my limbs and back for days afterwards!!

There were several happy things made the packing up the house go really smoothly:

• Kind neighbours who either brought lunch and a big pot of tea round to us:

....OR invited us to their homes- or took us to the local beans-and-rice street cafe. All week, I did not have to worry about lunches or stop to prepare food. Evening meals were likewise provided by kind friends and neighbours, What an absolute blessing and huge help!

• new MAF friend Marlies generously gave two hours of her Wednesday afternoon to kindly bubble-wrap and pack kitchenware into boxes for us. Meanwhile, I busied myself down at the schoolroom selling everything that needed to be sold (books, toys, furniture, lights, electrical equipment, kid's bikes, curtains, bedding) to local staff. I enjoyed the banter while we negotiated prices in true African style!
•    
• Esther, Ben and Joel found plenty to keep them busy as they ran around the compound and house! They also joined in play-times and some lessons Joel's JCA school. Joel's teacher amazingly came back to Juba in October, from her summer break abroad, to continue teaching at JCA. It was not an easy decision, since Juba is still unsettled, sothere are fewer friends and support for a young teacher in her position. Many people have decided not to return to live in Juba. Since so few families have actually opted to bring their kids back, the school now only has 3 pupils, but Racheli is an inspiration in her commitment to teach these children faithfully, with the part-time help of "Auntie Susan" (you may remember Susan from my blogposts in 2014 when she was shot in a robbery and we visited her in hospital. She made a fantastic recovery :-)).       Joel and Racheli:

Esther, Ben and Joel with "Auntie Susan":

• I was able to issue each child on Thursday morning with bubble-wrap, scissors and sellotape to wrap items for packing. It is nice to have children who are of an age to actually help! 

Thursday afternoon also saw us saying goodbye formally, first to the National South Sudanese Staff and then later to the International MAF team.
BUT that is a whole new set of photos... and I need a break! So the final stages or our goodbyes to Juba and our final day as a family in Juba will have to be covered in the next blogpost...

To be continued....